


Understanding

by Deannie



Category: The Real Ghostbusters
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-07 15:02:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1903452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deannie/pseuds/Deannie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Edward Spengler never did like his son's friend Peter Venkman--which never really bothered Peter at all. When Egon's plane goes missing, Peter needs to ignore the antipathy and help Egon's dad face reality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Understanding

**_April 12, 1979_ **

I suppose it was inevitable--we were all going to become adults at one point or another. Egon's got standing in his department now, I'm working my way into mine, and Ray's gotta be one of the most sought-after--not to mention one of the youngest--engineering TAs in Columbia history. We're all making our way in the world.

Which sometimes means... making your way in the _world_.

So, at the insanely early hour of eight a.m., Ray and I are driving with Egon out to La Guardia to drop him off for his flight to Minnesota--which just proves my point that physicists are _born_ dull. I mean, if you're going to have a worldwide conference on the wonders of science, couldn't you find a more happening place than St. Paul?

"Wow, Egon! A Lear jet!"

Ray's more excited about this trip than Egon is--and he's not even going!

"Dr. McCreedy's high standing in the physics community does have its advantages, Ray," Egon points out, trying to be calm and unruffled. He's pretty jacked about this too, though. But he's trying to be the professional they expect him to be--trying to live up to the Spengler family name.

"So, your dad'll be there, right?"

My question draws his attention away from the road for a minute, and I have a sudden vision of being splattered all over the Whitestone Bridge. "Egon. Eyes on the road, please."

He turns back to the highway, smiling a little at the edge in my voice. "Peter, this is the reason I'm driving," he reminds me. "I am quite capable of navigating the streets of Manhattan and the outer boroughs and carrying on a conversation at the same time."

"Right," I shoot back, conspicuously checking my seatbelt. "Whatever."

"Yes."

I look up at him. "Yes what?"

"Yes, my father will be there." You're too damn smart for your own good, you know that, Spengler? Wipe that smug look off your face. "He's to give a paper this afternoon on the lab's newest research. I should be there in time to catch it."

"Sounds fascinating." Not. "What's it about? 'The cumulative effects of mathematics in the destruction of the human brain'?"

He favors me with a glance as we hit the tollgate. "Hardly one of your best efforts, Peter."

I yawn. "Sue me. I was out late last night."

"With Dina?"

I kick back, stretching my feet out in Egon's new Bonneville. His dad bought it for him last year--a kickback for Egon getting tenure in Columbia's physics department. I wonder what he would have bought him if he'd actually gone home to work in the labs? I could have dealt with an Olds. Or a Caddie.

"Dina's old hat, my friend." I ignore Ray's chuckle from the back seat. Old hat, last week, same dif, right? "No, I was out with the lovely Veronica."

"Veronica..." Spengs rattles that big old brain of his around beneath his curl. "Isn't she the TA who's been auditing your parapsych 452 class?"

"Oh, Peter, you're not...?"

God, Ray, what--it's a _crime_?

"Auditing is the magic word, my friend."

"I doubt that word will mean very much to you when they deny you tenure, Dr. Venkman."

You know, a year out from my second PhD, and I _still_ love that word. Doctor. Damn, I sound official!

"Ronnie'd never tell a soul, Spengler, you know that." I smile despite myself. "She's got the tightest damn... lips... in New York City."

"Until you dump her." The whisper from the backseat is all too audible.

"Ray, that isn't helping." At all. Thank you.

"So, Egon?" Good, Stantz. Change the subject. "Are you and your dad going to have dinner or anything?"

Dr. Spengler, senior, is a little sore spot with our physicist lately. They kind of... lost it with each other--in a very calm and rational manner, of course--over him not joining Spengler Labs when he graduated. Not that Daddy wasn't as proud as punch that his kid scored big at Columbia, but they haven't really been in a communication phase since then. Except for the car.

But then, Charlie bought _me_ a car, too. Hardly means something.

"I believe Mom said something about him wanting to join me after my presentation tomorrow, yes." Oh, pip-pip, Egon. Stiff upper lip, and all that.

"So, Mom's not coming, huh?" Okay, somewhere, Mrs. S. just shuddered. She'd kill me if she heard me call her that. But since my own mom died... Well, aside from her thing for blenders, Mrs. S. makes a great substitute.

"Peter, please don't call her that--even from three states away." Egon sighs. He hasn't seen his mom in a while either, and _that_ has been getting to him, I know. I mean, okay, so Ray and I are orphans, but he still needs to see his mommy once in a while. If I still had one, I would, too. But this thing with his dad...

Charlie _never_ stood between me and Mom. I don't know how long he would have lasted if he had.

"She's going to visit some friends in California," he says dryly, though I can hear the disappointment in his voice. I think he was really hoping she'd come to this one, seeing how they're both making presentations. "She said she didn't fancy spending a week in the 'boonies' with a bunch of stuffy physicists."

"Way to go, Mom!"

"Peter."

I grin. His mom taught him that.

***********

My class ran late--as always. But gosh, the kids don't seem to mind--and they always have so many questions! I think I'm going to like teaching, once I finally finish my degree.

I'll have to catch something quick for lunch--the occult club is meeting this afternoon, and I'm already going to miss the first half hour--

"Ray, pack something."

What's Peter still doing home? He's going to be late to teach his one o'clock.

Gosh, he looks frazzled!

"What?"

"Pack something. Anything--something warm, I guess."

He's flying around the place, throwing things in his gym bag--and really scaring the heck out of me!

"Peter, what's going on?"

He stops just long enough to give me a shove toward my bedroom. "Egon never made it to the conference. The department just called to tell me his plane..." Oh, wow. Oh... Oh, gosh, Egon! "It went down in Wisconsin--" He pulls a hand through his hair distractedly. "--or Lake Michigan. Something. They don't know." He looks up at me in panic. "Just _pack_!"

So I do.

 

 

We park in the lot, and just about run to the terminal, stopping long enough to pick up the tickets. Peter's wiped out his savings again with this one, but it's not like we have time to worry about that. Fifteen minutes later, we're on a plane to Green Bay. They set up a... Well, they call it a survivors' camp, but I'm going to think of it as a place to wait for Egon.

Because I just know we're going to find him. And I know he's going to be fine.

"Never again." Peter's muttering to himself as we wait for the plane to taxi out to the runway. "Never, ever, _ever_ am I letting that guy go _anywhere_! 'We're just off to my mother's for Thanksgiving, Peter'--with a brief stop for a thirty car pileup! 'It's a ski trip, Peter, what could go wrong?' Gosh, Egon, I don't know--an avalanche, maybe?"

Gosh... Maybe he's right. Egon's got bad luck, doesn't he?

"But he was fine those times, Peter," I try to remind him. "He came back."

"Some day, though... Some day he won't." His voice is tight, and I wonder whether he's thinking about someone else who didn't come back. Or maybe it's just that his dad... Well, he doesn't really come back very often, does he?

"Some day his luck's going run out, and..." He sighs and almost slams his head back into the seat, closing his eyes.

And we don't really say anything for the rest of the flight.

**********

Man, oh man, my day just keeps getting better!

Straubel International Airport is nothing to write home about--and the survivors' camp is pretty much a disused office space. I mean, hey! Not like there were more than ten or fifteen people on that jet anyway, right?

Survivors' camp. Who the hell thought that one up? Way to give a guy hope, boys!

A willowy blonde just the wrong side of pretty is sitting at a folding table just outside the door. "May I take your names, and the name of the passenger you're waiting for?"

Gotta love _that_ twisted dichotomy. If this is for the survivors of dead guys, why are we waiting for them, huh?

"Egon Spengler. He's the passenger." Thanks, Ray. Kind of caught up in the idiocy of the FAA right now.

"Your relation?"

"Um--"

"We're his brothers," I cut in smoothly. What? It's not _really_ a lie! "Peter Venkman and Ray Stantz." She looks at me skeptically, and I give her my Venkman Special Number Five. "Different dads... Mom was kind of--"

"Peter?" Mrs. S.'s query comes to me from across the small room. Way _too_ small.

Oh shit. "Here's Mom now." God, I hope she didn't hear that. Oh well, at least we're in the door.

"Peter, I tried to call you--how did you know?" She's looking pretty rough, and Ray gives her a hug that she _really_ looks like she needs.

"I'm not hated by the _entire_ physics department, Mrs. Spengler," I remind her, trying to give her a comforting smile. "One of the guys called to let me know, and..."

"And here we are." Ray Stantz, savior of the tongue-tied.

I'm shocked into returning the sudden hug Mrs. S. gives me, and she pulls back to look me in the eyes. "I'm glad you're here."

"I wish I didn't have to be."

She sighs at that, and I'm struck once again by just how... controlled... Egon's family is. And she's the flighty one! "I'm sure he'll be all right. The..." A little slip in the armor there. "The terrain is a bit difficult, but they have a basic idea of where they went down." She leads us to the other side of the small room, away from a television that's broadcasting updates on the search. "The rescue teams are out, and it shouldn't be... long--before we know something."

Yeah. But do I _want_ to know it?

"Mrs. Spengler, do you want something to drink? Coffee... something?"

Ray's a helper. He's gotta be doing something to make someone feel better--every damn second of every day. God, I'm glad he's here.

"Thank you, Ray. I think I could use some tea."

As Ray rushes off to play waiter, I look around curiously. "Where's your husband? I figured, since he was closest, he'd already be here."

The look on her face isn't quite miffed, but it's close. "He'll be here soon. They moved back his presentation."

Wait a minute... "He's still giving his presentation?" She looks almost apologetic for him, but I want to scream. "Egon's _missing_ in a _plane crash_ and he's giving his damn presentation?!"

"Peter, please! Calm down." I do, but only because she's not the person I want to be yelling at. Jesus Christ! What does it take to get through to this guy, huh? Maybe he'll deign to come down when we find Egon's body!

Oh God...

"Peter? ...Peter, are you all right?"

Oh God--okay--okay, you can do this, Pete. You _have_ to do this. No losing your head here--not with everyone else needing to keep theirs. I take a deep breath and meet her eyes.

"How'd you get here so quickly?" California's a lot further than New York.

Her eyes drop to the floor. "I... wanted to surprise him, so I told him I wasn't coming." Oh man... "We were going to--to take him out after his father's talk today." When her eyes track back up, she's actually crying. "It been so long since... I've seen..."

I move to sit next to her, slinging my arm around her shoulders as she falls silent. "He'll be okay, Mrs. S. I know it."

You damn well better be, Egon, or I swear to God...

*********

It's been a long time.

Egon's mom is kind of dozing--she's propped up against Peter's shoulder, and she looks like she's having bad dreams. But every time she shifts, he runs a hand over her hair or rubs her shoulder, and she calms down again.

Three hours, and it seems like forever.

I can't believe Egon's dad didn't hop on a plane the second he found out. We did--I don't think anything would have kept us from coming. And I can't believe he's not just as scared as we are. I won't believe anybody's dad could be like that.

"If I could have everybody's attention?"

I look up as the girl at the front calls to us. Everybody's holding their breath--it's not just me. I see Peter prod Mrs. Spengler gently, and she snaps up, turning to the door.

"We wanted to keep you all apprised of what's going on... There are now fifteen crews on the ground, and another six choppers have been sent up. There's no word on the crash site yet, but they're going in grid formation, so we may be in for a long wait." It's already _been_ a long wait! "They'll be bringing in some sandwiches and some more coffee if anyone's interested..."

"Like we're going to eat now?"

Peter's quiet statement draws my attention away. She isn't telling us anything important, anyway.

Egon's mom looks really tired, but I don't think she wants to go back to sleep. She pushes against Peter gently, and stands up, straightening her dress. "I'll be back in a minute, boys," she tells us, sounding... so lost--but like she's trying not to. "Keep my seat."

"It's got your name on it, Mrs. S."

I don't think Peter realizes that he's been calling her that since we got here--and she doesn't either. Unless she just doesn't mind...?

"Peter?" I move over to sit on the other side of him, and he turns to me. Taking care of Mrs. Spengler took a lot out of him, I think, and I know he's still angry with Egon's dad for not being here. Gosh, I hope he gets here soon. Egon's mom shouldn't have to be alone if...

"They're going to find him, Peter." I hope. "I know they will."

"I know, Kid." He doesn't, though. There's a look in his eyes that says he's just waiting to be told the bad news before he'll react to it. "It's just the waiting that's the problem."

"Venkman." The voice comes out of the blue, and it's so deep, and so... It's like Egon's, but colder. We both jerk our heads up, to see Egon's dad walking toward us. He ignores me, but I'm pretty used to that by now. "I'm surprised to see you here."

Peter stretches. Like everything's fine. Like he's trying to piss Dr. Spengler off.

"Surprised to see you, too, Dr. Spengler." His tone is kind of... taunting. "Didn't you have a talk... or something?"

Dr. Spengler draws himself up--and he looks pretty imposing. He's even taller than Egon is, and he's really good at looking down his nose at people.

"My wife would have called me if anything happened." His words fall like icicles, but even Peter has to see that he's terrified. Doesn't he?

"Yeah, Egon's mom--" he makes the distinction forcefully-- "and Ray and I have been keeping each other company during the wait." He pegs Egon's dad with a glare. "There's nothing new, by the way. Just in case you were wondering."

"I had the pilot check in while I was in the air."

"Edward?" Mrs. Spengler comes up behind her husband, and he reaches out briefly to touch her hand. "I'm glad you're here."

"I apologize for the delay, Katharine." Wow, now I know where Egon gets it. His dad talks like a Vulcan too. "I was... unavoidably detained."

"Hob knobbing with physics' finest up-and-comers will do that."

"Peter!" I jab him in the ribs, and he shrugs. I know he's angry, but making a scene isn't going to help!

"The boys have been keeping me company--"

"So I've been told." The cold statement makes Mrs. Spengler stop, and she sighs. I bet she gets tired of his stuffiness. I've heard Egon--when he's really mad at his dad--wonder why his mom ever married him, and... I feel bad, but sometimes I can see his point. She's so *nice*, and he's so... stiff.

"Hey, Tex?" Peter's new nickname for me still seems kind of weird. But I guess it's better than "Kid." Gosh, who wants to be called Kid when you're almost 21? "Mrs. McCreedy just walked in." He pushes himself to his feet. "I think we should go say hello." He smiles at Mrs. Spengler fondly. "We'll talk to you later."

And he doesn't even look at Egon's dad.

**********

"Everyone? Please! Can I have everyone's attention?"

Like you have to ask for it?

"We've just gotten word from search and rescue that they've located the plane." Oh thank God. "It's inaccessible by air, but there are ground crews moving in on it, and we should have word soon. They've reported movement around the wreckage--" YES! "--and will be in touch about survivors as soon as any information becomes available."

"I _told_ you, Peter!" Ray's bouncing in his seat. "I _told_ you he'd be okay!"

"Whoa, Tex, hold on a minute." Yeah, I'm thrilled they found the wreckage, and I'm thrilled there are survivors, but... "We don't know anything yet. Don't... Don't get your hopes up."

His eyes dim for a minute, but he's still got that light in them. He couldn't look hell in the mouth without hope.

"He's okay, Peter. I just know he is."

"Your mouth to God's ears, buddy." And you're listening up there, right?

"Ray? Peter? They found them--did you hear?"

Now, that's where he got it--has to be. Egon's ability to state the obvious has just _got_ to be genetic.

I smile, rising to meet his mom. "Yeah, we heard, Mrs. S." She grabs my wrist warmly and I put my other hand over hers. "He'll be here in time for breakfast."

There's a hint of tears in her eyes. You can tell she only married into the Spenglers. "And hungry as a horse, as always."

"Better have Renny come up and whip up those pancakes of his."

God, if this isn't whistling in the dark, I don't know what is.

"Katharine, why don't you come back and sit down?"

"I was _hoping_ to share a little good news with Egon's friends, Edward." Her voice is just this side of angry--at least the closest I've ever seen her to it.

"Well Cyrus is here now, and I should think you'd want to spend time with his _family_."

Wow. Low blow, Dr. Spengler. Damn--now I wish _he'd_ been there when I told the girl we were Egon's brothers. That'd grow mold in his petri dish.

But he never liked Egon's thing for mold, either, did he?

"Thanks, Mrs. S.," I offer, giving her the out that _Edward_ so very much wants her to have. "We've still got some waiting to do, huh?"

"How dare you speak so familiarly to my wife."

Egon's dad is nothing if not controlled--and I mean that in the most literal way possible. Right now, he's spent the last seven hours wondering whether they'd even _find_ his son, and now that they know where he is, they still don't know if he's...

And if Dr. Spengler lets himself slip for even a second, he's going to fly apart at the seams... disintegrate. _Be_ nothing. I can feel my own anger draining away as I finally get it.

"Edward, I don't mind--"

"Well I very much do, Katharine." He draws himself up, trying to intimidate me, but I got his number now. He's kind of like Charlie, actually--though way quieter. My dad has to _look_ like he knows what he's doing--even if he hasn't got a clue. And he'll cover up every bit of fear with twice as much anger, just to convince you he's fine.

I just can't kick a guy this down, you know?

"I'm sorry, Dr. Spengler." I turn to Egon's mom, polite as I can be. That's pretty polite, actually. "Mrs. Spengler."

"Edward, please--"

"No, Katharine." He walks right up to me. "I believe I have had quite enough of Mr. Venkman--"

" _Doctor_ Venkman." Pure calculated spite. I know how he's going to respond.

He snorts at my correction. He's losing control, and he's going to hate himself in the morning.

"Doctor!?" He even shouts quietly. "The validity of such a title, applied to that... _rubbish_ you laughingly call your 'studies'--"

"Hey!"

I put a hand on Ray's chest as he lurches to his feet in my defense. "It's okay, Ray." I keep eye contact with Egon's dad, watching him squirm. Hey, I can't kick him, but I didn't say I couldn't pinch him a little. "It was good enough for Egon."

"Bah! My son would never have conceived of wasting his time on such frivolous pursuits before he met you!" Typical parent response. Cast off your child's independence as poisoning by an outside source. "And that he continues to fritter away his time in your presence is nothing less than remarkable!"

Shit, Ray--man, don't have a coronary. I know what I'm doing here. I'm my dad's kid, remember? I can see through any con--and Egon's dad is conning himself plenty.

"Yeah," I return easily. "Egon's pretty remarkable all around, huh?"

"And yet he wastes his time with the likes of you--"

"Edward that is enough!" Mrs. S.'s angry whisper stops him in his tracks--for a second anyway.

But a second is all I'm going to need.

"I know you're worried about him, Dr. Spengler," I say gently, watching his eyes. "But I don't think yelling at me is going to help, do you?"

************

Wow. Peter really _did_ work for that psych degree, didn't he?

Egon's dad drops into a chair like his strings got cut, and... he's shaking. He's not crying, I don't think, but Mrs. Spengler sits down next to him and rubs a hand over his back while he shakes. And Peter's just watching. He's almost _sad_ for him.

I guess I am, too, kind of. He spends all this time trying to be so controlled, and all he really wants to do is cry.

Gosh, it's almost all I want to do, too.

After a while, Dr. Spengler stops shaking. He doesn't look up, but Egon's mom gets him a cup of something, and sits back down, rubbing his shoulders again. Peter and I just stand here. I don't want to sit down anymore--I don't want to wait here with all these people...

I just want Egon back.

 

 

"Excuse me?"

A tall brunette--really cute--walks up, a clipboard in her hands, and I realize I've been kind of... ignoring the world for a while. I guess Peter was too, cause he shakes himself like a dog, and looks at her. But he's still expecting the worst. I can just see it.

"You were waiting on word about Egon Spengler?"

Egon's parents are on their feet in a second, hovering. I can see other people walking around the room now, talking to families. One lady starts crying, but I can't tell if it's a good cry or a bad one. I sure hope it's good.

"We have word that he's alive--unconscious at the scene." She smiles encouragingly, and Egon's mom drops back into her seat. "They're taking him to Rheims County Hospital--there'll be a car here to take you all to him."

Dr. Spengler's eyes close as the girl moves on to the next group, and he whispers "thank God" really quietly. I turn to Peter, and he's breathing hard--probably trying not to cry.

I don't think I'll bother to try.

***********

Waiting rooms suck.

Ray and I have been sitting here for an hour waiting for Egon's parents to come out from seeing him. It took a while for the staff to let them in, but I'm afraid they're going to stay all day.

He's okay, though--well, relatively. A couple of cracked ribs, broken leg, bruising and stuff. He tore up his arm pretty good and... well, I guess he lost a lot of blood at the scene, so he's been kind of weak. But he's going to make it.

Too bad he missed his presentation.

The plane crash could have been a whole lot worse, but only one guy didn't make it. The rest are just... really banged up. Egon'll be out of action for a while, and he'll probably be going home to his parents' house to recuperate.

That'll be good--he can spend some time with his dad.

Funny, I never much liked Dr. Spengler. I mean, he hasn't exactly been Mr. Supportive when it came to Egon's choices in life. But I can see now that he loves him--as much as Charlie loves me. He just has a really screwy way of showing it. It's sick, but maybe this was just the thing they needed to get their relationship back on track.

Which is great and all, but I really don't want to spend the rest of my life in the waiting room--waiting!

Egon's parents walk in, and I wonder if I'm psychic like Egon says, or I just have the power to make people do what I want--which isn't the same as psychic, you know? In my house, we called it the Venkman Touch. His mom looks better, and even old Dr. Spengler isn't so stiff. He walks up to us as we stand.

"Dr. Venkman." Wow. I rate a _Doctor_ now? Parapsych might be mumbo-jumbo but psychology isn't, is it, Dr. S.? "My son would like to speak with you and Ray." And he actually looks at the kid. Ray's been this... annoyance, as far as Dr. Spengler was concerned--a little too excitable, a little too... feeling... for him. I don't know how much Ray's taken it to heart, given that he doesn't really like Egon's dad much, but he's beaming now, just to be acknowledged.

"We're going to go and get a hotel room, boys," Mrs. S. says quietly, looking happy and finally relaxed. "Will you keep him company while we're gone?"

I smile broadly--using the chivalrous Venkman Special Number Eight. "We'd be happy to, Mrs. Spengler."

"You _can_ call me Mrs. S., Peter," she says, a sly smile on her face that reminds me of Egon. "I think I may even get used to it."

"Spengs got used to his," I remind her. "Anything's possible."

Dr. Spengler actually reaches out a hand to me, and I shake it--even more shocked when he does the same to Ray. "I... am sure my son appreciates you being here." Whoa! "Thank you."

Damn. I guess anything _is_ possible!

**********

I sense the hand of a certain psychology professor at work--or more likely, his mouth.

Father was more relaxed with me than he has been since my undergraduate days--or at least since I told him I would not be returning home after my PhD. He was truly shaken by this, and I am sorry for that.

But it was... very nice to talk with him.

"Spengs, you're never leaving New York City again, got it?"

I smile broadly as Peter and Ray walk in. I missed them. "I believe that might be prudent, given my history."

"Gosh, Egon, you look..."

"Terrible, Raymond." I sigh. Mom said as much when she saw me. The bruising on my face is rather--extensive. My glasses survived only because they were thrown off when we hit. "Yes, I know."

"Definitely not getting a date to the prom looking like that, Egon, that's for sure." Peter is smiling--he cannot seem to stop, in fact. Yet his eyes still hold shadows from what he has been put through today.

My God... Was it really just this morning we were discussing my presentation?

"You okay, Spengs?"

I hated that name when he started using it, but now... I grasp the hand he holds out to me, smile warming. "Yes, Peter. I'm fine."

He snorts, sitting in the chair beside my bed. "Tell that to a blind man." His grip tightens. "You scared the hell out of us, you know?"

"And you were not the only ones." A heavy gaze has him ducking his head. "I believe you and my father... had words?"

"He was really worried about you, Egon." Ray, ever the diplomat. "We were all kind of keyed up."

"He tell you you can't come over and play anymore?"

That would merit a laugh if my chest weren't quite so abused at the moment. "He told me... You surprised him."

There is a glint in Peter's eyes that speaks of a man whose job has been well done. "He was going to snap, Egon," he says jokingly. "What could I do?"

"Thank you."

He sees the heartfelt gratitude in my eyes, and another hand comes up to trap mine between his. "Just doing my job, Spengs."

"And how much do I owe you, Dr. Venkman?"

His eyes head toward the ceiling as he considers. "Well you know, same-day tickets aren't cheap--"

"Peter!"

Ray's laughing outcry is accompanied by the slap to the shoulder I would love to have the energy to give him, and Peter smiles. All is right with his world.

"No charge, Dr. Spengler. Consider it a gift."

"I do," I tell him seriously. "All of it."

The silence that follows is pure and relaxing, and I feel myself start to drift. But I don't want to sleep right now--not with them here. I want...

Raymond's hand is warm on my forehead, and his voice is quiet... or perhaps I am simply moving away...

"Go to sleep, Egon. We'll be here."

And that... that is the best gift they can give me...

* * *  
The End


End file.
